Gold Renaissance

It’s Easter Sunday, and it’s time to unwrap your chocolate eggs and gobble them down! Those coloured bits of foil in every colour of the rainbow – the prettiest parts of the chocolate sweets – are now little bits of screwed up rubbish. When I was a child I sometimes would try to flatten out the foil sheets and burnish them with the back of a spoon. I loved that reflective shine.

For a time though, I lost that love. In my early 20s metallic fashion was very passé – only wealthy madams of well-to-do areas of Melbourne gravitated towards shiny accessories, and they particularly loved metallic shoes. Usually they were flat sandals, which were bejewelled to boot. My friend Rapunzel and I share a mutual abhorrence for them.

… there is nothing middle-aged lady about stilettos in silver snakeskin

Fast forward many years later, and metallics are back in fashion – particularly in footwear, ironically. But today’s metallic leathers are much more refined, and there is nothing middle-aged lady about stilettos in silver snakeskin.

One of my favourite vintage purchases that I made quite a few years ago is this 80s Indian gold foil rah-rah skirt. I don’t think I own anything else that says P-A-R-T-A-Y-! quite so loudly, not even the multitude of sequinned garments in my closet. In shape, it is quite reminiscent of the 1920s too, which is bound to attract me.

When I first bought the skirt to wear to a wedding, I wasn’t quite sure which colour to wear it with, and I ended up pairing it with a chocolate coloured top. Now I also like it with very pale pink, and turquoise. It looks great with violet too – you can’t get a more royal combination!

As for gold jewellery, I almost never wear it. If I do, I tend to be attracted to very yellow gold (the shade of 24ct gold), and in the most OTT Bollywood style I can lay my hands on. If I could go about looking like an Indian bride, I would (the only thing that stops me is that I don’t own enough pieces). These earrings and necklace came from an Indian boutique in Melbourne.

So go on, give gold a go – it has the SNAP seal of approval. 

T.G.I.G.F.

This past week or two I kept reading everywhere about inspiring fashion for Easter: pretty spring pastels – pink, green, primrose. All the fashion magazines were ecstatic. Newsflash: it’s autumn in the southern hemisphere.

What do you wear in autumn for Easter, I wondered? I could find nothing online. Apparently, you don’t wear anything special Downunder. I asked quite a few friends, and most disclaimed any interest, or indeed knowledge of specific Easter fashions, apart from Easter bonnets (which is originally an American tradition anyway).

I don’t particularly like pastels however, at least not on myself. I find pastel coloured clothing a little insipid, a little wishy-washy.

And then I had a Easter flavoured eureka moment. Chocolate!

The obvious solution is to wear autumnal colours, but they don’t seem particularly Easterish. The holiday has become inexorably and inextricably intertwined with spring.

And then I had a Easter flavoured eureka moment. Chocolate! And, Cadbury’s! I don’t actually eat Cadbury's chocolate (too much sugar for my liking) and of the supermarket brands, prefer New Zealand’s Whittaker’s Chocolates. But there was something in this … chocolate brown, royal purple and gold. I liked it. I don’t normally gravitate towards brown, but when it comes in liquid satin and metallic copper wrapped in a vintage Edwardian purple and white striped taffeta ribbon, I’m down with it.

And, however you celebrate Easter, Thank God it’s Good Friday, eh?

The Other Green Fairy

Shamrock green (not to be confused with shagreen, which is rough, untanned sharkskin) – otherwise also known as forest green. Or even emerald. But what’s in a name? It is a lovely shade of viridian (that is blue-green to you layfolk who never opened a tube of viridian oil paint).

Once upon a time leprechauns were depicted wearing red, not green, but now of course they are associated with St Patrick’s Day and Ireland’s national colour, green. According to folklore, a leprechaun is the son of an evil spirit and a degenerate fairy, and is not wholly good or evil (does this mean there are no leprechaunettes?). What an origin though! How would you live that down?

The leprechaun spends his time making shoes (my kind of good fairy), and his favourite pastime is counting his gold coins that are usually stored in a pot at the end of the rainbow. One account of the etymology of his name originates in depictions of the leprechaun working on one shoe – a brogue. I like to tie mine with peach silk ribbon, and if the eyelets weren’t so narrow I would have switched to green just for today.

Happy St Patrick’s Day, Irish!

~

Read more about Irish ó ceallaigh green here. 

Ode to Red

Red is one of my favourite colours, and what better day to celebrate it than on St Valentine's Day? Red has been considered the colour of love for centuries, symbolising the heart and the red rose. Hence the tradition of bestowing a dozen crimson roses to one's love on Valentine's Day – or perhaps a single long-stemmed bud if one's purse is a little slimmer. Not as cheap as it sounds, in the traditional language of flowers, a single rose means 'I love you'.

That hackneyed rhyme of roses and violets has a rather more highbrow origin in the eighteenth century, and is found in Gammer Gurton's Garland, a collection of English nursery rhymes published in 1784:

The rose is red, the violet's blue,
The honey's sweet, and so are you.
Thou art my love and I am thine;
I drew thee to my Valentine:
The lot was cast and then I drew,
And Fortune said it shou'd be you.

An even earlier source is Edmund Spenser's The Faerie Queen of 1590:

She bath'd with roses red, and violets blew,
And all the sweetest flowres, that in the forrest grew.

Of course, it is perfectly acceptable to bestow boxes of chocolates upon the object of one's affection too – especially in a heart-shaped box! Some might call that clichéd, others might call it sweet. 

The first commercial Valentine cards with pictures and words were produced at the end of the eighteenth century, and were called 'mechanical valentines' – for those lovers who were not confident in the verses produced by their own pen. By the mid nineteenth century cards were so popular they were being mass produced in factories, but it was not until the mid twentieth century that gifts were being exchanged too.

The fashion designer Valentino Garavani, after opening his fashion house in Rome in 1959, became particularly famous for making dresses in a vivid shade of red that has become known in the fashion industry as 'Valentino red'. The colour remained a favourite of his for decades, and even gives a name to his RED Valentino collection. I am not wearing a Valentine dress, but this liquid silk satin frock and red satin pumps give suitable homage to Valentino red.

An even less prestigious source than English nursery rhymes, these unforgettable lyrics come from Warrant! 

She's my cherry pie 
Cool drink of water
Such a sweet surprise 
Tastes so good 
Make a grown man cry 
Sweet cherry pie oh yea
She's my cherry pie 
Put a smile on your face 
Ten miles wide 
Looks so good 
Bring a tear to your eye 
Sweet cherry pie ...

I am wearing a vintage 50s red velvet bandeau draped in cherries, and a cherry print cardigan I picked up a few weeks ago at the Geelong Mill Market.

I have lost count of the times strangers in the street have passed remarks about Little Red Riding Hood when I have worn this vintage coat, but the best version of this passé joke was one of my work colleagues, who, learning I had a date in the evening, asked if I was dating a wolf.

In some of the earliest versions of the folkloric story, the little girl is merely wearing a red cap – although there does not seem to be any significance in it being red. My cashmere coat of course is hoodless, but it certainly resembles a cape with its wide sleeves. The fur trim only adds to the fairytale aspect. The coat is German-made, although I am uncertain of its age.

The phrase 'wearing one's heart on one's sleeve' usually describes the lovelorn who unashamedly avows his or her feelings – apt enough for Valentine's Day, although some may prefer to express their feelings anonymously. The phrase may derive from the customs at jousting matches during the Middle Ages. Knights are said to have worn the colours of the lady they were supporting, in cloths or ribbons tied to their arms.

The term doesn't date from that period however, and is first recorded in Shakespeare's Othello, 1604. In the play, the treacherous Iago's plan was to feign openness and vulnerability in order to appear faithful.

Who doesn't love a cherry? There must be something wrong with you if you don't!  Life is, after all, a bowl of cherries, and a cherry on top is the crowning touch that makes something already delicious even more special.

This outfit is a confection from tip to toe. The heels are a glorious patent red leather finished with a bow on the side, the silk tiered skirt scattered all over with appliqued black velvet hearts is a vintage 1920s costume piece, and the silk blouse features split butterfly sleeves that flutter deliciously enough, The finishing touch is an enormous pompom headband that I made from various yarns, including chenille, and it is super-soft. 

Let's skate over the infelicitous origin of the phrase 'the scarlet woman' and skip straight to the colour itself. Scarlet is a slightly more orange tinge than true red. Red is associated with courage, force, passion, heat, and joy – as well as more negative emotions such as anger and hatred.

It has also been associated with immorality and sin, and with war because of the latter's association with the Greek god of war, Mars.

In China it symbolises fire, and is associated with weddings, while in Japan red denotes a heroic figure. In the Ottoman empire, the Turks carried flags of red, designating the sovereignty of their Sultan. In Russia, red gave its colour to the revolutionist flags, although the Russian word for red is similar to the word meaning 'beautiful'.

I have always loved red because it is a happy colour. It is vivid, bright, and the very notion of a new pair of red shoes makes me want to jump for joy like a little girl again!

Happy Valentine's Day Snapettes!

The Year of Radiant Orchid

Crowned in Radiant Orchid (well, purple is a royal colour) – teehee!When I was about eight years old, I discovered a passionate and violent hatred of the colour purple. This irrational antipathy was to last through my teens, past my twenties, into my thirties.

It was my mother who inadvertently planted the seed, on the occasion of my sister Serena’s wedding, by stuffing me into a despised dress made of horrible scratchy crepe (trimmed in cream crocheted lace) in a particularly virulent shade of magenta – just the shade of those inner petals of the flower in Pantone’s picture of their Colour of the Year: Radiant Orchid. Purple was my mum’s favourite colour. I thought it was disgusting.

Late last year, Pantone declared: ‘An invitation to innovation, Radiant Orchid encourages expanded creativity and originality, which is increasingly valued in today’s society.’

‘An enchanting harmony of fuchsia, purple and pink undertones, Radiant Orchid inspires confidence and emanates great joy, love and health. It is a captivating purple, one that draws you in with its beguiling charm.’ And as if all those effusive adjectives weren’t enough, they add: ‘Radiant Orchid’s rosy undertones radiate on the skin, producing a healthy glow when worn by both men and women.’

Well really, what a lot of ridiculous hype! Who writes this nauseating hyperbole? You will only look radiant if that shade of purple suits your skin tone of course! I had long since recanted my hatred of purple (I don’t recall when or how that epiphany occurred), and discovered – ironically – that many shades of purple in the winter colour palette actually suit me.

But if it doesn’t work for you, there’s plenty of other ways to indulge in this year’s colour – just keep it away from your face.

Scroll down and admire the purpleness (and click through to Just in Love With Bernie for some more prettiness).

Be cocooned in Radiant Orchid Varying shades of radiant orchid paintSeventies sunray pleated dress from Carla And Carla on EtsyEighties peeptoe pumps from Look Again Vintage on EtsyLive inside Radiant OrchidVintage silk scarf from Plot on EtsyWhy not eat some Radiant Orchid macaroons?